Not so Perfect
by Blue.n.whiteStripes
Summary: Owen Milligan is a famous, arrogant man. When his agent tells him to cool it, he decides to do something to get him back on the right track. He takes in a homeless, pregnant women. He was only supposed to shelter her and help her on her feet. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with her…
1. Arrogance Meets Modesty

**AN: **Hello everyone! Welcome to my new story! It's a *drum roll* Clowen story. So, all of you Clowen fans, this one is for you. It'll have a lot of other people in here. There will be appearances from Drew, Bianca, Dallas, Adam, and plenty more. I hope you all enjoy this one. I really like it.

A little information about the two: Owen is 25 whereas Clare is 24. Clare never went to Degrassi nor did she ever live in Canada. Ummm... everything else will be addressed either in this chapter or later chapters.

Review and Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Stephen Stohn owns Degrassi.

**Chapter One: Arrogance Meets Modesty**

_(Owen)_

"What do you mean "cool it?"?" I snap at Aron, my agent.

"Owen, you're in the papers, _again_. You got into a fight with that Bieber kid."

"In my defense, he was asking for it. That kid has a lot of fuckin' mouth!"

Aron pinches the bridge of his nose as he sighs heavily. He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly. When he opens his eyes, he reaches on the table and slams the magazine down in front of me. I made the cover page and not in a good.

"Do you know what they're saying about you, Owen? They're saying you're a selfish, cocky bastard. They're saying you're the most shallow, hated person in Hollywood. No one wants to hire you for a got damn movie! You haven't been asked to do a movie in months, Owen…_months_! I'm thinking about just firing your sorry ass!"

My jaw clenches tightly as Aron goes on about me. He tells me the only reason he won't fire me is because he believes in me. He says I'm a great actor, but I need to lose the temper and stay out of the papers for a while.

I nod my head although I am still pissed off. I know I'm not the best person in the world, but I'm not the worse either. Yeah, I beat up that Bieber kid, and yes, I got a DUI ticket three days before that. I also got caught smoking weed with a few of my friends behind a set two months prior to. Those damn paparazzi catch every fucking thing!

"Go home, kid," Aron tells me with a tired sigh. "Go cool off and stay low for a while; just until I clear your name. Got it?"

"Got it," I say curtly as I get up and storm out of his office. I walk down the halls and straight to the elevator.

I press the downward button and wait for the doors to open before I walk in and press the first floor button. Once the elevator stops at the lobby, I get off and go outside. I walk to the valet, give him my ticket and he goes to fetch my car. When I see my Mercedes-Benz pull up in front of me a few seconds later, I sigh. The valet gets out of the car and I give him a tip. He thanks me and I give him a small nod before hopping inside my car and speeding off.

I decide to take the highway home. While driving, I see something that catches my eye. A female, who looks like she's roughly around my age, is standing on the corner. Her clothes are tattered and dirty. Her skin is covered in dirt along with her short, curly hair. My eyes narrow on the sign that she's holding in her trembling hands which reads: **Homeless and pregnant. Please help**.

I put my car in a halt, ignoring the honks and protests I'm getting. Even though this car is my baby, I open the door to let the poor girl in. She's going to stink up my car and get it dirty, but suddenly I don't care. I want to do something nice for once and maybe this can get me in thousands of movies. Maybe this can get me on the front page of the paper. This can change what people think about me.

The timid woman looks at me with wide eyes. I motion for her to hurry up; my patience is quickly thinning. She drops the sign on the ground and runs to the car. I almost gag at the foul stench coming from her. She closes the door behind her just as I roll the windows down.

"Thanks for helping me out," she says quietly while putting her seatbelt on.

I don't respond, so she continues.

"Y—You're not going to kill me are you?" fear rises in her voice.

"No, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to help you out."

"Why?"

"Do you want the help or not lady?" I snap.

Her mouth clamps shut. She stares out the window and folds her arms across her chest. The ride to my house is silent. When we reach our destination, she doesn't even seem fazed by my house. She just hums to herself and steps out of the car. Sighing, I step out of the car and make a mental note to get my car cleaned.

The homeless girl follows behind me as we walk down the pathway and to the porch of my house. I grab my keys out of my pocket and unlock the door. I step aside and let her step in. As soon as she takes a step in the house, my Siberian husky, Hunter, comes towards her. He doesn't bark at her, nor does he try to attack her. He simply jumps on her and licks her. He wags his tail excitedly.

Homeless girl smiles and starts to play with Hunter. She scratches behind his ear, getting him excited until I get fed up.

"Hunter," I snap, "go in your room."

Hunter gives me a solemn look before running off.

"Owen Milligan; who would have ever thought I'd be in the house of Owen Milligan," she says softly but she's still unfazed. Why?

"You know who I am?" I ask in shock. I must be really famous if homeless people know who I am.

"I don't live under a rock, Owen. I haven't been homeless all my life and besides, you're in every paper. You get talked about more than Justin Bieber…and he gets talked about _a lot_."

"Yeah, well, alright," I say, growing agitated. "I'm going to call my stylist and have her bring you some clothes. You can take a shower upstairs and I can schedule you an appointment so we can get you clean and see about the baby."

"Thank you," she says.

"Since you seem to know my name, I think it's only fair you tell me yours."

"Clare," she replies with a sad smile before walking towards the steps.

I watch as she disappears up them before taking out my phone to call my stylist, Lana. After I get off the phone with her, I schedule an appointment for Clare. To pass time, I go in the kitchen and decide to make the two of us a meal. I make us a grilled chicken salad with breadsticks. It was the quickest thing I could prepare in so little time.

"Hey, I didn't know if the clothes were here yet so I borrowed your jersey and a pair of your boxers. I hope you don't mind."

I turn around to see Clare standing in front of me wearing my Ice Hounds jersey. Her hair is still damped and it's clinging to her porcelain, skinned face. Her bright, blue eyes no longer look dull. She doesn't look like the woman I just picked up from the highway—she look's far from it. She looks absolutely gorgeous…_stunning_.

I find the words to say, "N—No, I don't mind at all."

"Okay, cool," she smiles.

"I made lunch: grilled chicken salad with bread sticks. If you want something to drink, I have water, lemonade, orange juice, and cranberry juice."

"I'll take water, please," she responds.

"Water coming right up," I tell her.

I turn around and open the refrigerator. I reach inside and grab the pitcher filled with water. I sit it on the counter and turn around to walk to the cabinet. I open it and grab two glasses. I pour Clare and myself some water. I put the pitcher back into the refrigerator.

While I'm doing that, I ask Clare to grab us both a plate. She complies and sets the plates on the counter. Together, we fix our plates in silence. Afterwards, we walk to the dining room and sit down at the table.

"So," I start off, "what made you this way, if you don't mind me asking?"

Clare looks at me with sad, teary eyes. A tear slowly rolls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. Sighing, she picks up her fork and dig into her food.

"I guess you do mind," I say curtly.

"It's none of your business!" she snaps.

"It is my business if you're going to be staying here. How do I know if you're not just someone who's using me and take my money? How do I know if you're just trying to get close to me, because of my fame?"

"I'm not," she whimpers. "I…I just had a lot going on."

"Like what?" I press.

Clare sighs heavily. "Two months ago, my ex-fiancé died in a car accident. It…it was a terrible, stormy weather and he was on his way to see me. He had just gotten back from working on a play in New York. I told him to hurry back, because I had some…exciting news to tell him." She pauses to take a deep, trembling breath. "I waited for three hours; no texts, no calls—nothing. I kept calling him, but it kept sending me to voicemail. I began to grow worried."

My heart crumbles as I think about what Clare is going to say next. I had no idea she had gone through this and all while she is pregnant. I guess I should have listened to my mother: never judge a book by its cover. Suddenly, I feel like the biggest jackass in the world.

My first thought was that she had made some bad decisions and it put her out on the streets. My second thought was that she got put out. I hadn't thought about life throwing something unexpected at her and it became too much to handle.

"You don't have to continue, Clare. I had no idea—"

She cuts me off to continue as if she doesn't hear what I said. "I got a knock at the door at 12 in the morning. There was a police officer standing there. He…he asked me did Elijah Goldsworthy live here and I told him yes. My heart was racing so much and my nerves began to go all over the place. The officer asked me was Eli's family here and I told him that I was his fiancée. The officer told me, in these exact words: Ma'am, I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your fiancé, Elijah Goldsworthy is dead.

I was so devastated. My fiancé was dead and on the day I was going to tell him I was pregnant," she cried. "I—I got fired from my job, because I started missing work. I couldn't find myself to leave the house. I didn't want to go outside; I wanted to stay in and look at everything that reminded me of Eli. Soon after, bills started piling up, and I ended up losing my house."

Clare covers her trembling hands on her mouth to prevent her from crying out. Her cries are muffled. I drop my fork on my plate, hearing a clatter sound follow behind it. I don't know how to really comfort anyone, so I reach over the table to pat Clare's hand. She looks over at me in confusion and pain. I quickly take my hand off hers and look down awkwardly at my plate.

The doorbell rings and I couldn't be more relieved. I need to get away from this depressing atmosphere. I shoot Clare a sympathetic look before getting up from the table and walking to the door. I open it and see Lana standing there with a few bags of clothes.

"What girl do you have in your home now, Owen?" she asks with an exasperated sigh.

"Hush, Lana, it's not like that. This girl is…different. For once, I'm doing something nice in life."

"By nice you mean you're not going to screw her? Wow, she _must_ be special. Who's the lucky lady?"

"A homeless girl I found on the streets. She's pregnant and needs a place to stay."

Lana stares at me in disbelief. Her eyes are popping out of her head and her red, coated lips are parted open. I take the bags from her hands and slowly close the door in her face. I call out for Clare to come here and soon after, I hear a fork clatter against the plate. I hear the chair move and feet shuffling. Clare is standing in front of me, staring at the bags in my hand.

"I hope you like these," I tell her while handing her the bag of clothes. "I didn't have much information to give my stylist, so I told her to surprise me."

Clare smiles genuinely at me. "Thanks, Owen." She walks towards the steps and takes a couple of steps up them. She stops and turns around, looking me in the eyes. "I don't believe what people say about you."

Before I could ask her what she means, Clare quickly ascends up the steps, leaving me alone with my wondering thoughts. I exhale heavily as I take a seat on the sofa. This has been one hell of a day. I was just getting yelled at by my agent; he said I was arrogant and the most hated person in Hollywood. Now, I'm taking in a homeless, pregnant woman. So much happened in one fucking day!

.

.

.

_(Clare)_

I go into the guestroom and close the door behind me. I strip out of Owen's clothes and rummage through the bags. There are bras, panties, socks, and clothes in there. I smile as I look at all the things in there. I decide to wear a white bra with a pair of cotton panties for undergarments. I rummage through the bags a little more and decide to wear something comfortable: a blue, white, and black striped maxi dress. I slip the dress on, loving how the soft fabric feels on my body.

I walk to the full length mirror and give myself a little twirl. I should be happy that I'm finally off the streets, but I can't. I miss Eli. The day I was going to tell him that I was pregnant, with his first child, he died.

I didn't even want to go to his funeral. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I shut out both of our parents. I didn't want them to confirm it; I didn't want them to tell me that my Eli was gone and wasn't coming back. I couldn't handle it…knowing that he was taking from me the very day I was going to share wonderful news with him.

I hadn't realized I was crying until I felt a tear drop sliding on my chin. With the back of my hand, I wiped it away. I sniffle slightly and bring myself to walk to the door. I place my hand on the doorknob and get ready to open it, but I can't.

Owen Milligan is going to take care of me. He's going to nurse me and help me back on my feet. I just don't understand why. I hear so much about him; people say he's arrogant and he's the most selfish guy on earth. I hear that he wouldn't even go see one of his biggest fans. I also heard that someone wrote a long, adorable letter—in full detail—asking if he could take them to prom. Owen laughed at it on Twitter, saying those days were done for him and he would not take her to prom.

So why was he helping me out? Sure, I didn't mind, because it was nice to stop sleeping underneath the highways. It was great to get out of those filthy clothes and to, for once in a while, take a nice, relaxing shower. Tomorrow, he's taking me to a doctor's appointment. I know it's too soon to tell what sex it's going to be, but at least I can know if I'm healthy and know a little of something about the baby.

I take a deep breath and stop listening with my inner thoughts. I twist the doorknob and take a deep breath. I leave the door slightly opened behind me as I step into the hallway and walk towards the steps. Once I reach the steps, I place my hand on the rail and walk down the steps.

I go into the living room and see Owen is murmuring on the phone.

"Well, what the fuck am I going to do? No, I don't give a damn. Look, have Jason at my fuckin' door tomorrow around 1 p.m. Oh, he doesn't want to do it?" I can hear a low growl escape his lips. "Tell him his sorry ass his fired! No, I do not care about him having a fuckin' family to feed. He should have thought of that when he decided to turn down the offer. Of fuckin' well; just have someone at my door tomorrow at 1 p.m. Not a got damn minute later."

Owen angrily hangs up the phone, muttering under his breath. I don't even have to make my presence known. As soon as he turns around, he sees me standing there. His dark, murderous eyes roam my body for a second before they land on my frightened eyes.

So, why did I accept this, again? I know who Owen Milligan is. He has the worst freaking temper known. He can kill someone just by giving them a murderous glare. Almost everyone in Hollywood hates to work with him. They say his attitude alone makes him the most hated person known.

"How much did you hear?" he asks me in a low tone. When I don't respond, he gets louder. "How much did you fuckin' hear?"

"N—Not a lot," I whimper as my body trembles along with the words coming from my mouth. "I just heard you saying you're f…you're firing someone named Jason."

Owen nods his head and motions for me to leave. I turn on my heels and scurry away. I run up the steps and I walk past Hunter's room. When he spots me, he jumps up and run towards me. I squat down and let him run into my open arms. Hunter wags his tail eagerly and starts to lick my face. I giggle when he rolls on his back, begging for his belly to get scratched. I graze my nails across his belly, hearing him grunt in response.

Hunter is a copper color dog with a white belly. His eyes are brown and welcoming. He seems very energetic and friendly. I know he's the type of dog that is loyal and will do anything for his owner, also.

Hunter rolls back over, ignoring the fact I had my hand on his belly. He sprawls out on the floor and lets out a loud, heavy sigh. I grin at Hunter as I rub my fingers through his soft fur.

"You're such a cute doggie," I tell him. "You seem to be the only person I have right now—well, besides the baby inside of me."

I sigh, knowing that I should be, at least, a little grateful for what I have. I could be out on the streets still and not properly taking care of myself or the baby. I could be somewhere dead; being on the streets for two months has been harsh.

I just can't seem to find the good in this. Owen is giving me a place to lay my head, food for myself and my baby; he's given my clothes and other things. All these things are wonderful, but there doesn't seem to be any sincerity behind it. It just seems like he's doing it just because.

"Don't worry," I whisper to my unborn child as I subconsciously start to rub my belly, "mommy will get us through this soon…I promise."

.

.

.

_The rain smacked against the windows. The lights in the house were out; there was some part of me that found the storm a little…comforting. I would watch as the lightening strike in the sky right after the thunder bellowed._

_Tonight was a special night. Eli was coming home from New York. I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks and I had missed him. Right before he left, we made sweet, passionate love. It was our way of saying goodbye for a while. When he called to tell me he was on his way home, I told him I had something wonderful to tell him. _

_I remember his exact words. "I can't wait to see you, my muse. I'd love to hear the wonderful news you have for me. Make sure you make your famous lasagna for me."_

_I giggled. "Eli, it's 9 at night. I'm you lasagna this late."_

_"__That's what you would say if you didn't want my kisses and hugs when I get back."_

_We both shared a wholehearted laugh. _

_"__Hurry up," I whined. "I really have something to tell you."_

_"__I will come as quick as possible."_

_We said "I love you" to each other before hanging up. I let out a happy sigh as I continued to watch the thunderstorm. I waited patiently for Eli to come, but he didn't show. I began to grow anxious…that anxious grew into worry and afterwards, I was downright petrified._

_The storm had gotten worse by the minute. The hard pellets of rain were pouring down rapidly. It was starting to become impossible for people to drive. My fear for Eli being out there began to grow by the second. I called him and left thousands of messages, but he never answered. He never returned my calls._

_I panicked so much, wondering where the hell Eli was. I wanted to know if he was okay, but I had no way to get in touch with him. At 12 o'clock, there was a knock at the door. Curiosity crept on me as I went to the door. My heart was pounding so loud that it was only sound I could hear through my ears. I gulped nervously as I went to the door. I didn't peek out the window to see who it was. I simply unlocked the door and yanked it open, hoping to fling my body into the arms of my fiancé. Unfortunately, that was not going to happen._

_The officer standing at my door was about 6'5 with broad shoulders. He had a bald head and a clean shaven face. His face had sympathy written all over it. Now, my heart was racing more. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it._

_"__Good morning ma'am; my name is Officer Hale. Does an Elijah Goldsworthy live here?"_

_I swallowed hard. "Y—Yes."_

_"__Does his family live here?"_

_"__I'm his fiancée."_

_Officer Hale took a deep, heavy breath. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your fiancé, Elijah Goldsworthy is dead."_

_His mouth was moving, but no words were coming out. All I could hear his say was that Eli was dead. My heart crumpled and I soon felt my legs give out on me. I dropped to the floor, screaming and crying. I didn't want for it to be true. I didn't want for Eli to be taking from me._

_"__Ma'am," Hale continued, "it appears that Mr. Goldsworthy was caught in the bad storm. Maybe the roads were too slippery and it caused his tires to slide across the roads. His car swerved and crashed into a tree. Ms.…" Officer Hale dragged on, waiting for me to tell him my name._

_"__Clare," I say hoarsely, "call me Clare."_

_"__Clare, a tree trunk crushed his chest. From what I'm hearing, he was killed instantly. He didn't feel any pain when he…" his voice trailed off._

_"__He didn't feel any pain?" I repeated. "But I feel pain! Eli is gone and I'm going to be left alone to raise our baby together. This is all my fault. I…I shouldn't have told him to hurry. I was just so excited to tell him that I'm pregnant with our first child."_

_"__Clare, calm down," Officer Hale said calmly as he touched my shoulder. "I need to take you to identify the body…just to make sure."_

_I nodded my head numbly. I hadn't wanted to go, but I know I needed to. My heart raced rapidly as we got climbed into the car. When Hale drove off, I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes. My palms started to sweat and my body started to tremble. Although it was warm outside, my body felt cold and clammy. My mouth and lips felt dry. I couldn't process the fact that my Eli was gone…_


	2. What Terrifies Me the Most

**AN: **Hello everyone! I see a few of you have followed and favorite this story! Thank you for giving this a chance. For those of you reviewing, thank you! Reviews and knowing that people read my stories make me super happy. I know I've been off my updating game last week. Hopefully, this week I can write. Lately I've just been SO exhausted and tired. School literally drains all of my energy out of me. Since today went my sooo quick, I was less tired and more energetic. Okay, maybe only a little energetic. Eh, not all that energetic. I had enough to write this, though.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter! If you have any questions or comments, review/PM me. I'd be more than happy to know what you all think about this story! :)

**Disclaimer: **Stephen Stohn owns Degrassi.

**Chapter 2: What Terrifies Me the Most**

_(Clare)_

The sun peered through the blinds and began to shine on my face. I sat up in bed and stretched while yawning. The moment I set my foot on the floor, there's a knock at the door. Once I'm fully out of the bed, I walk to the door, and open it. Owen is standing at the door. He's not wearing his pajamas. He's wearing a white V-Neck with specs of chest hair protruding from it. He has on a black blazer and a pair of black slacks. His hands are tucked in his pocket and he's giving me an annoyed look.

"Good morning, Owen," I say in a cheery voice.

"Morning," he says briskly. "Get showered and dressed. I have someone picking you up in the next hour. My cook, Abby, is making breakfast so I expect you to be down in thirty minutes."

I nod my head quickly. Owen gives me a firm nod before turning on his heels and walking away. I close the door and rummage through my closet. I decide on a nice floral dress that flows out freely and stops at my ankles. I go in the adjoined bathroom and take a quick shower. Afterwards, I slip on my undergarments then I blow dry my hair. Once it's dry and curly, I slip on my dress. I go out of the room and slip on my flats. I go down the steps and into the dining hall where Owen's cook, Abby, is fixing the plates. She's gives me a small smile.

"Good morning," I say politely.

"No talking to the staff," Owen snaps. "They're here for one reason: to get paid. Talking is forbidding."

"Oh," I say softly, "my apologies."

I take my seat at the table and sigh.

"So, where are you or your fiancé's family?" Owen asks me as he digs in his eggs. "Shouldn't they be here, you know, taking care of you?"

"They're back in Chicago."

"So, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Eli and I wanted to come here," I smile sadly. "We thought it'd be nice and come somewhere where the weather was nice and plenty of opportunities could knock at our door."

"You never thought to go live with either of your parents? Do they know that you're—"

"No," I answer immediately. "They don't know. Once I got kicked out of my house, I thought about going home. I thought about reaching out to them, but I had no way. I had no money."

"You didn't find any change just lying around?"

"All the change I found went to me and the baby growing inside of me. It's rare for you to find money just lying around, also. There are other people out there like me and they have to survive, too," I say through clenched teeth.

"I'll never understand what it is you people go through," he says nonchalantly.

"You people?" I say growing angry. "I'm suddenly not hungry. I think I'll just…go outside."

I stand up and get ready to walk away.

"No, you're going to sit back down and eat!" Owen's voice booms. "You have a baby growing inside of you. Not only do you have to get all your nutrition and strength back, but you have to eat for this baby. So, sit down and eat!"

I slowly sit down and began to eat my food. My skin crawls as I feel Owen glaring at me. I make sure to avoid eye contact as I devour my food. The eggs are amazing; just like my mom used to make it and how I used to make them. The pancakes are delicious and fluffy. They have blueberries in there and I realize that it's how I used to make them for Eli. Blueberry pancakes were his favorite. I sniffle and hold back the tears that are desperately trying to fall. I quickly finish off my food and excuse myself from the table. I go sit on the sofa and stare blankly at the TV which isn't even on.

The doorbell rings, but I can barely hear it. Everything sounds so distant to me. I hear the door open and I hear voices. Someone touches my shoulder and I gasp and flinch. I look up to see Owen's giant frame towering over my small one.

"Clare, this is Drew. He's going to take you to and from your appointment."

"Y—You're not coming with me?" I ask in a small voice.

"No, I have a couple of things I need to take care off. You'll be fine."

I nod my head as I walk to the door. Owen whispers something to Drew and he nods his head. Drew offers me his hand and I reluctantly take it. He leads me to his truck. He helps me in and closes the door behind me. I buckle my seatbelt and wait for him to get in. He closes the door and buckles up before starting the car.

"So, you're staying with Owen now, huh?" he questions as he takes off.

"Yup," I say sadly.

"You don't sound too happy about it."

"I'm glad that I have a place to stay. It's better than sleeping on the highway and now my baby can grow up somewhere safe."

"But?" he questions.

"But, Owen seems so mean and frightening. He intimidates me and I feel like I just have to tiptoe around him."

"Owen is a great guy behind all of that meanness. He likes to try and scare people off that way he can't get hurt."

"How long have you worked for Owen?"

"Worked for…Is that what he told you?"

"No, I just assumed," I say with a shrug.

"I'm Owen's best friend. I've known him since forever. We grew up together."

"Oh," I say softly. "How can you deal with him? He's evil and just…he scares me. He makes me feel like I don't belong there."

"Owen isn't a bad guy, Clare, trust me. He had a rough past that made him build a wall up."

"Yeah, well, I've had a rough past too, but you don't see me building up a wall. I still manage to put a smile on my face. You know why? Because I'm breathing; I'm alive and I'm grateful for it."

"Owen mentioned something about you having a rough past, but he never told me. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm here."

"Thanks, Drew," I say with a soft smile.

Drew nods and the car finally comes to a halt. I take off my seatbelt and my hand trembles with nerves. Drew takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. I look over at him and smile. I take a deep breath as I push open the door. We walk inside and my heart swells at all the pregnant women sitting right there. Some of them are huge; they're getting ready to pop. Others are just starting off, like me.

Drew walks with me to the front desk. I grab a clipboard to fill it out. After I get done, I take it up front and wait for the lady to call my name. To pass time, Drew and I talk. I get to know more about him. He tells me about him being married and how he and his wife are trying to have a kid. He tells me about his brother and how much he loves him. We talk more about his marriage. He tells me about how they almost got married in Vegas, but decided to wait until they both graduated. The two of them got married in his backyard. Drew says the wedding was amazing and it was the first time he seen Owen cry—both of his best friends were getting married.

"I didn't know monsters have feelings," I scoff.

"Hey," Drew says, "he's not that bad."

"To you, maybe; to me, he's horrible. I've done nothing wrong."

"If Owen was a bad person, would he have taken you in?"

I open my mouth to say something, but I quickly close it. A nurse calls out my name and Drew and I stand. We follow her to the back and she asks me a few questions before taking my weight, height, blood, and blood pressure. Afterwards, she tells me to lie back on the table.

"Clare, Dr. Graham should be here in a moment," the nurse says. "In the meantime, why don't you and dad relax and—"

"I…I'm not the father," Drew says nervously. "I'm just a friend."

"Oh sorry," the nurse says. "My mistake."

The nurse leaves and we're left in silence. Soon after, the door opens and the doctor come in. She smiles at Drew and I before looking over the clipboard.

"You must be Clare Edwards. Hi, I'm Dr. Graham. Is this the father?"

"No, ma'am, he's just a friend."

"Okay, well, shall we get started?"

I nod my head and lift up my shirt. Dr. Graham warms me that the gel is going to be a bit cold. I squeal and jump a little as she places the gel on my stomach. She tells us to pay attention to the screen and we do. I stare at the little blob moving around. It brings tears to the brim of my eyes. As my tears start to slowly fall down, I crack a smile. That's my baby in there; it's not much, but it's everything to me. Seeing my child in there brings joy and hope to me.

"Okay, Clare, this is your baby. It looks pretty healthy. Would you like a picture?"

I nod my head, unable to speak. Dr. Graham gives me picture and a list of things to be cautious of while I'm pregnant. She also gives me a list of the diet she wants me on. I nod my head and thank her. On our way out the door, I feel a rush of nausea hit me. I run to the nearest trashcan, get on all fours, and puke. I feel someone grabbing my hair; I know it's Drew. When I'm done, Dr. Graham is looking at me.

"Ah, morning sickness," she says. "It'll all be over soon, my dear."

I nod my head and groan. With the back of my hand, I wipe my mouth. Drew helps me on my feet. He offers to take me out to eat and I happily agree. We go eat some burgers, fries, and a shake. Drew asks to look at my sonogram. I show him and he gets a bit teary eyed. I ask him what's wrong.

"Bianca and I want to have a kid; we've been trying for a while, but nothing. Bianca is supposed to go to the doctor soon to see what's wrong. We're both so afraid, because we don't want to hear anything devastating—we don't want to hear that she can't get pregnant."

A tear slid down Drew's face and it breaks my heart. I lean across the table to wipe away his tear. Here I was, feeling like I was on top of the world because I have my baby—a healthy one at that. Drew and his wife are having a hard time to have a child. Something about seeing others so sad breaks my heart. It makes me put all my happiness and other feelings aside just to make sure they're okay. I guess I get that from my father. He'd always put his feelings aside to tend to Darcy and I. I developed that trait and it became one of Eli's favorite things about me.

Drew and I polish off our food. He pays for the food and we exit the restaurant. We get into the car and drive to Owen's house in silence. The air is thick and very…sad. While my mind is wandering about Eli, I know Drew's is wondering about Bianca.

When Drew pulls up, we exit the car and walk on the porch. I give Drew a hug and thank him for taking me. I also thank him for being nice to me and not pushing what happened to me. Before we turn to knock, Owen opens the door. He glares at us, but I quickly ignore the look.

Drew awkwardly clears his throat awkwardly and we make our way inside. Owen tells me to go in the kitchen and I nod my head. I scurry off in the kitchen where I'm greeted by Abby. She gives me a warm smile and gestures for me to come here while she's stirring in a metal pot. I walk towards her and peek inside the pot. She's stirring a red, thick sauce.

"You can be the key to Owen's happiness, my dear," she says softly and looks around to make sure no one is listening. "Owen needs some…sunshine in his life and I think you could be the person to bring him that."

"What makes you think that?" I ask in confusion.

Abby says nothing more. She holds the wooden spoon to my mouth, hinting that she wants me to taste the sauce. I taste it and hum in pleasure. She's making homemade tomato sauce.

"This is amazing," I say while licking my lips. "Can I have some more?"

I reach towards the pot, but Abby smacks my hand away. I let out a yelp which causes Abby to giggle in response. She asks me if I want to help her cook dinner and I agree. I know they're not allowed to talk to anyone, so Abby and I work in silence. We sneak glances at each other, almost like we have our own secret code. When halfway done with dinner, Abby asks what I would like for desert. I ask her if she could make a chocolate strawberry cake with pecans on top. She looks at me like I'm strange, but I blame it on me being pregnant. Truthfully, it's what I really want. I used to make it for Eli and I all the time.

"Go tell Owen and Drew that dinner is ready, dear," she tells me.

I get ready to protest, but she pushes me out of the kitchen. I slowly tiptoe into the living room. My heart is pounding at the sight of having to interrupt Owen from talking.

I'm a few steps away from the living room when I hear Owen and Drew arguing. I pause in my steps and stand awkwardly there. My mind tells me not to listen and to just turn away, but I can't.

"You need to tone it down, Owen. Your attitude is scaring the poor girl. She's pregnant and doesn't need that stress," Drew says.

"You don't even know her, Drew. How can you tell me what she doesn't need?"

"She's pregnant, Owen. It doesn't take a rocket science to figure out what you're supposed to do and what you're not supposed to do around a pregnant woman. She's terrified; she doesn't even want to talk to you. I'm just saying that you need to calm down and stop blaming every woman for the past."

"How dare you bring up that?" Owen growls. "How dare you just—"

Drew notices my presence. He holds his hand up and motions for me to come here. I gulp and clench my fists as I feel my feet start to shift. Before I know it, I'm standing near Owen and Drew.

"What's up, Clare?" Drew asks.

"You were listening to our damn conversation?" Owen voice booms, startling me.

"I…I…I wasn't. I was just—"I stammer.

"Owen," Drew admonishes.

"This isn't the first time she listened to my conversation. What is it that's so important that it couldn't wait?"

"Abby wanted you to know that dinner is ready," I mumble as I quickly walk away.

.

.

.

_(Owen)_

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," Drew yells. "Why couldn't you just leave her alone?"

"What is it about this girl that has you so upset? You're with Bianca for Christ sakes. Why are you getting your panties in the bunch over someone you barely know?"

Drew's jaw clenches along with his fists. If looks could kill, I'd be dead ten times.

"Clare has been through a lot; I don't necessarily know what happened between the two of them, but I know she's been through a lot. She's pregnant Owen; something that Bianca and I have longed for. I…I just don't want anything to go wrong with her or this pregnancy. I want Clare to get through it," Drew admits.

With that being said, he walks away from me and disappears into the kitchen. I'm left alone with my terrible mood and my swarming thoughts. I know Drew wants a baby; he and Bianca have been trying for a little over two years. Each time they find out someone is pregnant, they get sentimental and they get very depressed. They wish that they can have a baby, but their luck doesn't seem to work. Drew has been pressing for Bianca to go to the doctor to see what's wrong, but she's afraid. She doesn't want to know that there could be a possible chance that she can't get pregnant.

Sighing, I walk into the kitchen. Abby is fixing Clare, Drew, and I a plate while Drew and Clare are chatting. Drew is asking Clare about her weird combination of cake. Clare laughs and shrugs it off. She asks Abby to add more spaghetti on her plate. Drew takes a noodle and smacks her with it. She gasps and giggles. The two of them joke around until I clear my throat. The laughter cease and the two of them freeze.

"Clare, can I, um, talk to you?" I ask,

"Uh, sure, what about?"

"I want to apologize for what just happened; I'm a real jackass and that's going to take some time to get over."

"I forgive you," Clare says with a simple smile.

I nod my head and watch as she and Drew walk out of the kitchen with their plates. Abby hands me my plate and gives me a warm smile. She turns back around and begins to finish the cake. I sigh heavily as I walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

"So Clare, what do you like to do for fun?" Drew asks once I'm seated.

"Well, I used to write, a lot—everyday actually, but then…" her voice trails off and she gets a sad look on her face.

Drew clears his throat and quickly changes the subject. "Do you have a favorite color?"

This makes Clare laugh a little. "Purple," she answers.

Drew looks over at me and tells me that I need to join in on their conversation. I look over at Clare for her approval and she nods her head, agreeing with Drew. I join in and we just all talk. We get to know some things about Clare and she gets to know some things about us. Once dinner is over, Clare takes our plates. I tell her I have maids for that and she just scoffs. She tells me that famous people shouldn't be lazy, especially over the little things such as washing dishes.

She disappears into the kitchen. Drew snickers at me and I give him a look. He quickly stops laughing, but eventually bites his lip to prevent him for laughing more.

"So, I think Adam and Bianca should meet Clare," Drew says once he finished laughing.

"Well, we're free tomorrow, so okay."

"No word from Aron yet?"

"Nope," I sigh heavily. "He says he wants me to lay low for a while. I guess he's thinking that if I'm out of the papers, he can have a better chance at getting me hired for a movie—a good one at that."

"Yeah, you did some crazy things Owen. Don't let this fame get to your head, man. We didn't work this hard for nothing. You are an amazing actor; you're fucking talented man. Don't waste all of that talent because you don't know how to control your temper."

"You've known me since 1st grade, Drew. I've always had this temper."

"Yes, and I've always told you to control it."

"Yeah, whatever," I say as I give him a dismissal wave.

Drew laughs and says it's time for him to get home. He gets up and calls out to Clare that he's leaving. She yells "goodbye" and tells him to keep his head up. Drew then turns his attention towards me. He tells me to behave. I nod my head as I stand up to walk him to the door. Before he exits the house, he tells me to behave, again. I tell him I will. He gives me a hug and tells me he'll be back tomorrow with Adam and Bianca.

I go back into the dining room to see Clare sitting at the table. She's eating a giant slice of cake that's about the size of her head. She has a tall glass of milk sitting beside her, also. I watch in amusement as she devours the cake. When she spots me, she stops eating and her cheeks turn a dark shade of red.

"That must be really good," I comment with a smile. "What kind of cake is that?"

"It's a chocolate cake, with strawberry icing topped with pecans. It's so good! Abby makes the best darn food!"

"I've never had a cake like that before," I say as I twist my face in disgust.

"Come try it," she says as she pats the empty seat next to me.

I walk over towards Clare and take a seat next to her. With her fork, she breaks a tiny piece of the cake and holds her fork to my mouth. I open my mouth, allowing her to feed me the piece of cake. When I close my mouth and start to chew, I realize that cake isn't all that bad. It's a bit weird, but it's good.

"You like it?" she asks.

"Yeah, I actually do. It's very good."

"Yay, I'm glad you liked it! Now, I can have someone finish the cake with me. Well, maybe not. I really like that cake. Better yet, get your own; I'm not sharing."

"Aw, come on. It's only fair if you share," I tease.

"Nope," she says as she sticks out her tongue. "I don't have to share."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm pregnant; pregnant people don't have to share."

I laugh at her and she soon joins in on the laugh until I scoop up a piece of her cake and shove it in my mouth. Her laughter dies down and she glowers at me. She clutches her fork in her hand almost as if she's thinking about stabbing me. Instead, she sits the fork down, scoop some cake in her hand and shove it in my face. My body tenses and eyes narrow into tiny slits. Now, Clare is the one laughing. She gets up from the table and tries to run off, but I'm faster. I'm out my seat with the plate of cake in my hand. I run to her and dump the cake on her head. She freezes and squeals. She turns around, grabs the cake off her head, and dumps some of it down my shirt.

For a while, we play around with the cake until we've had enough. I get ready to call my maids to clean up the mess, but Clare says she's going to do it. We argue a while about it, until she wins the argument. I go take my shower and slip on my pajamas. I look at the time to see its only 9:30. I'm a bit tired so I slip in bed and wrap the blankets on my body. I close my eyes and drift off into a deep sleep.

.

.

.

The thunder is what wakes me up. I shoot up in bed and look around. I listen to the rain pouring down and beating against the window. Sighing, I flop back down and close my eyes. As soon as I get ready to drift off to sleep, I hear a knock at the door. Groaning, I yell for whoever it is to go away. They knock again and I sigh heavily. I throw the blankets back and walk to the door. When I open it and get ready to yell, I see Clare standing there. She's crying hysterically while clutching her pillow tightly to her chest.

"Can…Can I please stay in here tonight? I can't…I can't sleep alone. The storm—it scares me," she blubbers through her tears.

I step aside to allow Clare into the room. She drags her feet against the floor as she makes her way into the room. She looks at me before climbing into the bed. Once she's settled in bed she looks at me and waits for me to get in bed. I climb into bed and wrap the blankets around me. The thunder roars loudly and it makes Clare jump into my arms. She cries into my chest, which is uncomfortable since I'm not wearing a shirt, but Clare doesn't seem to mind.

I wrap my arms around her as we lay still. She continues to cry as the thunderstorm goes on. She sniffles a bit and her crying slows down. She pushes back a little and looks me in the eyes. Her blue eyes are filled with fear and sadness. She's biting her lip and wiping away her tears.

"Ever since Eli's death the thunderstorm scares me. I used to enjoy it when I was younger, but now it terrifies me. It makes me think of Eli," she whimpers.

"Shh," I tell her softly, "it's going to be okay."

She nods her head and it grows quiet for a few seconds until she decides to talk, again. "Owen?"

"Yes, Clare?"

"Can you, um, hold me until I fall asleep?" she asks and through the dark, I can see her cheeks turn red.

"Sure," I grumble.

I wrap my arms back around Clare and she buries her head in my chest. Her arms are at her side. Besides the storm going on, the room is filled with our breathing. Moments later, I start to hear Clare snoring softly. I close my eyes and go back to sleep while holding her in my arms.


	3. Can't Shake This Feeling

**AN: **This is what I get for not checking before I upload. *sighs* Sorry for the inconvenience everyone!

**Disclaimer: **Stephen Stohn owns Degrassi.

**Chapter Three: Can't Shake This Feeling**

_(Owen)_

I wake up to see those cinnamon, tousled curls sticking on her face. Her eyes are shut tightly; almost as if she doesn't want to open them and be sucked back into reality. Her mouth is opened enough to let tiny snores flow out. I feel a weird feeling in my heart and decide to ignore it as I roll out of bed. I quietly tiptoe to the door and open it as slowly as possible. It makes a whining sound and I cautiously look over my shoulder to make sure she's still sleep. I exit the room and close the door behind me. I walk down the steps and into the kitchen where Abby is standing there cooking. She has a smile on her face and she's humming soft melodies.

"Good morning, Mr. Milligan," she says without looking up from the stove.

"Morning, Abby. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure honey," she replies while flipping the pancakes. "What's up dear?"

"Am I an asshole? Do I scare people off?"

Abby giggles. "Do you really want me to answer that, Owen?"

I nod my head in a pleading way.

"Owen," she sighs, "I've known you since you were a little teen coming here to make your dreams come. You were straight out of high school with the attitude of a guy who wants to strive to get what you want. That guy that I met seven years ago was so caring and the most intelligent young man I've ever met, although you still had a bit of a temper. As time went on and you finally landed your dream career, you started becoming this atrocious man I've never wanted to be around. I love cooking for you, Owen, I really do—I see so much potential in you, son, but you have to cool down that damn attitude of yours; especially towards these women, Owen. You have to learn that whatever happened in the past has to be let go. You…you carry this heavy load on your shoulder and it's infuriating, especially for someone that's my age. I'm old enough to be your grandma, child. If I could, I'd slap the shit out of you like you were my own child."

I grin, knowing that Abby means no harm. I pull her into a hug and apologize for all of the frustrations I've caused her. She waves it off and tells me to go wake Clare. I gulp and nod my head. When I walk up the steps, I hear the shower water running and I hear singing. It's faint, but I can still hear it. I walk to the bathroom and press my ear to the door. I listen to the voice and feel my chest tighten. The singing may be a little off key, but it still sounds angelic to me.

I walk away from the bathroom once I hear the water turn off. I go to my room and close the door behind me. I go into my adjoined bathroom and strip out of my clothes. I take me a quick shower and get out drying off and getting dressed. Today shall be an interesting day. Clare is going to meet Bianca and Adam; two of my other closest friends.

After dressing in a black V-Neck with a pair of blue jean shorts, I go downstairs. Clare is talking to Abby—obviously ignoring my rules of not talking to the staff. When they spot me, their talking dies down and they both pay attention to what's in front of them. I clear my throat and pull up a chair next to Clare.

"You two can continue talking," I tell them as I take a sip of my water. "I don't mind."

"Oh thank goodness," Clare sighs happily, "Abby was just telling me about this cake her mother used to make her when she was pregnant with her firstborn. What's it called again, Abby?"

"You're talking about a 7-Up pound cake with walnuts. I can take the walnuts off if anyone's allergic."

"Yeah," Clare says, "I hate walnuts, but the 7-Up pound cakes sound delicious. Maybe we can add strawberries on there?"

"Oh Clare, you're wearing me out," Abby jokes as she scoops a stack of pancakes on Clare's plate before doing mine. "There are freshly cut strawberries in the refrigerator if you two would like some on your pancakes."

"Sounds wonderful," I say as I get up. "You two have taken a liking in each other. What does she have that I don't have, Abby?"

"Do you see how lovely and sweet this woman is?" Abby says as she reaches over the counter to pinch Clare's cheeks. "She reminds me of my youngest daughter, Beth. So sweet and enjoys my cooking."

"I enjoy your cooking, Abby," I say.

"I know you do, Owen, but I don't have any sons. I'm afraid I don't know how you…boys work."

I chuckle. The three of us talk a little more until Clare and I finished our breakfast. I leave the kitchen to call Drew while Clare stays in the kitchen to talk to Abby some more. After getting off the phone with Drew, I come back in the kitchen to let Abby know that Drew, Bianca, and Adam are coming over today. This seems to spark something in Abby. She grins and says that she has to make Adam's favorite meal. I guess Adam has his way with the women; Abby absolutely adores him and says if she could, she'd make him her son.

I have to admit, I used to get a little jealous at this.

Clare asks who are Bianca and Adam. I explain to her briefly about Bianca being Drew's wife and Adam is his brother. Clare nods her head and says she can't wait to meet them. I give her a small smile as I step out of the kitchen and go sit in the living room to wait for my best friends to show up.

About ten minutes later, my doorbell chimes. I stand up and walk to the door to open it. I smile widely at my best friends. Bianca pulls me into a hug, telling me about how much she has missed me. I just saw her a few days ago, but the three of us were always stuck together like glue.

"Come on inside. I have someone I want you to meet."

"Ooh, is it a girl?" Adam asks.

"Yeah," I respond.

"You never told us you had a girlfriend," Bianca adds.

"I don't. It's um…CLARE CAN YOU COME HERE?" I yell loudly.

I hear Clare practically run into the living room. She stops once she's at my side.

"You must Bianca and Adam," she says to the two. "Hey Drew."

"Hey Clare."

"I'm assuming you met her already?" Bianca growls. "What's going on? Who are you?"

"Well, my name is Clare Edwards. I recently lost my fiancé due to a terrible storm and a freak car accident. Um, I lost my place and prior to that, I found out I was pregnant. I was going to tell him on the day he died. I ended up homeless for a couple of months until Owen found me and took me in. "

The room is silent. Bianca has tears streaming down her face. She and Adam walk over to Clare and wrap their arms around her. Clare hugs them back.

When they pull apart, Bianca says, "If you ever need anything, dear, let me know. Do not hesitate to call me, okay?"

"T—Thanks," Clare chokes out.

Once Bianca and Clare had finished crying, they start to talk to get to know each other more. Then, Clare turns to Adam and gets to know him more, too. Those two have a lot in common; way more than Clare and Bianca.

"You listen to Dead Hand, too?" Adam gasps.

"Well, my fiancé did, but I grew to love them," Clare responds.

"Oh dear God, where have you been all my life?" Adam jokes as he pulls Clare into another hug.

I feel myself getting a little jealous as I watch the interaction between the two. I look at Adam in envy. I can't believe he's getting along with Clare so well. They have so much in common and it seems as if they've known each other for years. Adam offers to take Clare to the mall. She agrees and leaves us.

"Wow," Drew says in astonishment, "I didn't know my little bro had it in him."

"Shut up, Drew," Bianca and I say in unison.

"So, why the sudden change of heart?" Bianca asks.

"I just wanted to do something nice for once."

"Hm," Bianca says as if she doesn't believe me. She says she's going to go to the bathroom, leaving Drew and I alone for a brief moment which gives me the perfect opportunity to talk to him.

"Clare slept in my room last night," I blurt out.

Drew raises his eyebrows and gives me a questionable look. "Are you serious?"

I nod my head. "It was storming and she was terrified. She asked to sleep with me, so I let her. I held her in my arms as we fell asleep. I felt this…feeling Drew. Something I can't quite figure out."

"Maybe you like her, dude. She's beautiful, caring, and—"

"Currently going through a lot," I finish. "Besides, relationships aren't for me. You know that, Drew."

"You won't let the past go, Owen. You can't hold that over your mother's head forever. Besides, you're blaming other girls for something that your mother has done. You won't give anyone the time of day because—"

"I gave Anya a chance and she did it. What about Alli?"

"Hey, she cheated on me, too. It's all good."

"It's not," I sigh. "That proves all women are the same."

"No, they're not. Bianca is nowhere like those women out there and I'm sure Clare isn't either. It's up to you to believe that or not, but you better hurry up before Adam gets to her."

.

.

.

_(Clare)_

Shopping with Adam is a lot of fun. We hit a lot of music stores and even got matching Dead Hand T-Shirts. Listening to him talk about comics and the way music is structured gets me into tears. It reminds me of Eli and now I realize why I like hanging out with Adam.

_He_ reminds me of Eli.

Adam notices my tears and stops in mid-sentence. He wraps his arms around me and asks me why I'm crying. I tell him it's because of him reminding me of Eli. Adam apologizes and offers to stop talking. I tell him to continue to talk, because it feels like Eli is here with us.

"Eli would've enjoyed being around you," I tell him as we continue to walk around the mall. "You two seem so much a like that it's scary."

Adam grins, but says nothing. I mentally scold myself for repeatedly mentioning the similarities between the two. I bite on my lip to prevent me from talking about it anymore.

Adam and I walk to the food court. We both decide on Taco Bell. After eating our meal, we pile into the car and head off back to Owen's house.

"So, you like staying with Owen?" he questions.

"He's alright," I shrug. "He kind of scares me."

"He's not scary," Adam responds. "He just has a lot of baggage that makes him that way. He takes his anger out on just about every female."

"Why is that?" I ask in curiosity.

Adam sighs. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone; I swore to Owen that I wouldn't and I'm sticking to it. I hope you understand."

"Oh, I totally understand," I say with a nod.

The rest of the car ride is silent. When we get to Owen's house, I mentally curse under my breath. It's not that I don't like being around Owen, it's just that his presence puts me on the edge. I never know when he's going to snap or be in a good mood. He honestly makes it feel like I have to walk on eggshells around him.

We get out of the car and walk on the porch. Adam rings the doorbell. We wait a few moments before Drew answers the door. He tells Adam about Abby making him his favorite cake. Adam races inside and I giggle. I take my bags and store them upstairs. When I turn around, I gasp. I hadn't known that Bianca came up here with me.

"Sorry for scaring you," she giggles.

"It's fine," I tell her with a sigh.

"So, you're pregnant?"

I nod my head. "Two months."

"Well, congratulations. I'm just sorry that your fiancé couldn't be here to celebrate it with you and go through that experience."

"Yeah," I sniffle.

"What was he like? Your fiancé?"

"He was a wonderful guy; he did everything for me with no hesitation. He—well, the both of us—had a passion for writing. Eli just exclaimed he loved it more than me. He was a jokester, too. He loved to pull pranks and he loved to act like a kid—especially when it came to comics and video games. He would stop everything for me, though. He said I was his number one priority. That's what I loved about him the most," I say as tears spill down my face.

"Clare, honey, I'm so sorry," Bianca says softly.

"It's okay," I reply as I wipe away my tears. "I miss him so much; I didn't even get to tell him he was going to be a dad."

Bianca gets quiet for a few seconds before saying, "Drew and I have been trying for a while. We can't get lucky. I want to have a child so bad; Drew does too. It's something that we've been hoping, wishing, and praying for. I can't say that you're lucky, but you're blessed to be having a child—his child at that."

I nod my head. "I'm sorry. I know this must be difficult for you. Maybe you can adopt?"

"That's going to be our second option. I'm trying to work up the courage to set me up an appointment to see what's wrong and if I can have kids."

"You better do it soon. It could be something serious."

"That's why I'm afraid," Bianca mumbles.

.

.

.

After our heartbreaking talk, Bianca and I go downstairs to the dining room. Abby is serving dinner and chatting with Adam. She pinches his cheek and tells him about how much she loves cooking cake for him. Adam blushes and thanks her. We all giggle as Abby waltzes back into the kitchen.

Today, she has prepared for us spaghetti, garlic bread, and salad. For desert, she made a chocolate cake with fudge in the middle. Adam tells me that as soon as you bite into the cake slice, fudge oozes into your mouth. I look hungrily at the cake, anxiously waiting for me to get a slice.

We all dig into our food and talk while doing so. Adam and I conversation is about today. Drew, Bianca, and Owen talk about Owen's job. Owen talks about being infuriated that Aron doesn't even call him. He says he's actually ignoring his calls. I look confusedly and they quickly inform me about Aron being Owen's agent.

After dinner, we go to desert. I wash down my delicious cake with a glass of cold milk. I eat another slice before going to compliment Abby on the great job she has done. I beg her to make me one someday and she tells me that I have to ask Adam, because she makes the especially for him. I nod my head and decide to fix me something else to drink when a rush of nausea hits me, again. I cover my mouth and run to the garbage can. I start to throw up and groan once I'm done.

"I thought you were supposed to get morning sickness in the morning," I say as I wipe my mouth.

"Oh dear, when I had my second child, I got them in the afternoon and sometimes at night. It doesn't matter dear. You look a little pale, though. How about you go rinse your mouth and go lie down."

I nod my head and tell Abby goodnight. I go into the dining room where I see Adam, Bianca, Drew, and Owen talking. They stop when they see me. I tell them what happened and how I'm suddenly tired. They tell me goodnight and Adam says he'll be back over soon. Bianca says that the two of us need to talk more and I nod my head. I go into my room and close the door. I strip out of my clothes and into my pajamas. I slip into bed, close my eyes, and drift off into a deep sleep.

.

.

.

_"Clare, wake up," a soothing, sweet voice calls out._

_My eyes flutter open and I see Eli hovering over me. His piercing green eyes are boring into my blue ones. A smile spread across my face and I quickly sit up. I outstretch my arms, waiting for Eli to wrap his arms around me. When he does, my heart leaps out of my chest._

_"I miss you," I tell him._

_"I miss you, too Edwards," he smirks._

_"Guess what?"_

_"What?"_

_"I'm pregnant," I tell him._

_Eli grins and kisses me on my forehead. "I know you are, baby. I can't wait for you to find out the sex."_

_"I wish you were here with me," I mumble as tears start to spill from my eyes._

_"I miss you too gorgeous. You have to stay strong and not let any stress get to you. I know it's hard, but remember stress isn't good for our baby."_

_I nod my head. Eli grabs my hand and helps me to my feet. I had forgotten how our height was a slight difference. Just seeing him standing there in a Dead Hand T-Shirt, a leather jacket, black jeans and black Converse makes my heart shatter. Although I hated the way he dressed, I'm starting to miss it now. I'm missing every single thing about him._

_"Kiss me one last time, Eli," I whisper._

_Eli pulls me into a kiss. Although I know I'm dreaming, it feels so real. The way his lips are pressed against mine makes tears slide down my face. I miss the warmth of his body and the softness of his flesh. I miss having him caress me and make love to me whenever he'd come him. I miss our flirty banter._

_When we pull apart, I see Eli is slowly fading away. I want to reach out to him; I want to squeeze him and make him stay with me. When I wake up, I know it'll be over. I know that I'll wake up to emptiness; there'll be no Eli in my room._


End file.
